Employee Handbook

Let’s talk about the Employee Handbook of Corporate America—you know, that sacred scroll HR hands you on Day One that’s been photocopied more times than the Dead Sea Scrolls and hasn’t been updated since Moses parted the break room.

They hand it to you like it’s the holy grail of workplace wisdom.

“Here you go, Alex. This will answer everything.”

Everything except why Chad still gets promoted and why the coffee machine hasn’t worked since Q3 of 2017.

You flip to the first page, and it starts with something dramatic like:

“Welcome to our family.”

Aww. Cute.

Until you realize this “family” has quarterly layoffs, Karen from Legal, and a Slack channel dedicated entirely to passive-aggressive emojis.

Then comes the section titled “Dress Code”, which clearly hasn’t seen a Zoom meeting since 2020.

“Employees must maintain a professional appearance at all times.”

Sir, I’ve been in pajama bottoms for three fiscal quarters and no one’s said a word.

Attendance policy?

It reads like an ancient prophecy:

“Employees are expected to be punctual. Tardiness will result in disciplinary action unless caused by fire, flood, or act of God.”

Cool cool cool.

But what about emotional burnout and WiFi outages? Because my router has been going through some things.

Then there’s the Paid Time Off policy, which basically says:

“You have PTO, but also we prefer if you never take it, and if you do, expect 42 follow-up emails and a suspicious glance from your manager.”

And don’t get me started on the “Workplace Culture” page.

“We foster an inclusive, vibrant environment where every voice is valued.”

Unless your voice asks:

• “Why is there no maternity policy?”

• “Can I see the salary range?”

• Or: “Why does Kevin get credit for every idea I say out loud first?”

Then there’s that mystery policy labeled “Other Duties as Assigned,” which has been used to justify everything from leading all-hands meetings to plunging a suspicious toilet in the executive wing.

And if you ask a real question, like:

“Is there a clear path for advancement?”

The handbook responds like a magic 8-ball:

“Reply hazy. Try again later.”

Listen. I’m not saying we should throw the whole handbook away.

I’m just saying we could at least update it to acknowledge:

• Remote work is a thing

• Feelings exist

• And Karen is not the final authority on potluck etiquette.

So the next time someone says,

“Just refer to the handbook,”

remember:

That thing was written in a pre-pandemic, fax machine era by someone who thought “synergy” was cutting edge.

You don’t need an outdated manual to tell you how to do your job.

You need real leadership. Clear values. A working printer.

And maybe a page that says:

“We trust you. We value you.

Now go do your job—without HR watching your bathroom breaks like it’s the Hunger Games.”

And that, my friends, would be a handbook worth reading.